


The Dragoness and the She-wolf

by CatCloud



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sansa Deserves Better, Sansa-centric, Slow Burn Romance, Yara also deserves better
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:16:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatCloud/pseuds/CatCloud
Summary: In another life instead of nurturing her talent, Sansa was sold off to the Boltons. In another life, Littlefinger was left to his own devices to further tighten his grip in the Vale. In another life, it is Jon instead of Sansa who is sent as an envoy to the Dragon Queen.This is not that life.





	1. Chapter 1

Everyone has a weakness that can be exploited. That was one of the many lessons Cersei and Baelish had sought to teach her. Not on purpose that is.

Both had taken her under their wing for their own twisted reasons. They were very careful to teach her just enough to make her useful without giving her the tools to pry herself from their influence. But Sansa was far more observant and clever than they gave her credit for. She had learned more from the Queen and Lord of the Vale than either meant to teach her.

She had learned enough to discover the identities of Baelish's allies and conspirators in the Vale. Enough to gather her allies, and gather the evidence necessary to expose them all for the snakes that they were.

She had become a mother figure to Robin, one that could guide and encourage him to be a worthy Lord of the Vale. She had outmaneuvered one of the greatest and oldest players of the Game. She had convinced the Lords of the Vale to aid Jon in the Battle of the Bastards. She had brokered a proper peace treaty between the Free Folk and the North.

While Sansa did think that Jon was a worthy king, she also knew he could be kind of dull. Jon could lead armies, and fight supernatural terrors (he was very good at it), but Sansa was the one that made sure they all didn’t just die of starvation before facing said terrors.

Which is why it was her, and not Jon, who was standing before the Dragon Queen as her adviser, a woman named Missandie, listed her ridicules amount of titles. As much as Jon had tried to argue otherwise. As much he had tried to keep her in the North where it was safe. As much as she didn’t want to leave against her better judgment, it had to be her. At least she had Brienne and Arya with her. Brann had come too, but he could not climb all the stairs himself, so they had to go on without him.

The young conqueror’s throne was made of Dragonglass and laid on top of a flight of steps. This was a common trick among the High Lords. Fancy thrones position so those that sit upon them could look down on their guests. It was all to create a sense of a gap in power between them. But it was nothing more than a silly trick, an illusion.

In most cases it would be best to maintain these illusions, all the while plotting their downfall. But this was different. If Sansa was to accomplish her goal she would have to break the illusion. She would have to prove to Daenerys that they were on equal footing.

After Missandie had listed the last of Daenerys’ titles (right when Sansa believed the poor girl would pass out from lack of air), and Davos’ poor attempt at an introduction, it was finally time to get started.

“Thank you for traveling this far South my Lady, I hope the seas weren’t too rough.”

A small vow, “the winds were kind your Grace.”

“Forgive me, but I expected your brother. I don’t know how it’s done in the North, but in the South it’s expected for the Lords to personally swear fealty to their monarchs.”

_Sarcasm, a low tone voice with a bite to it, especially at the end. She is not as much of an armature as I expected her to be_. “Your Grace, forgive me, but the North knows no king or queen than the one in the North.”

Daenerys leaned back on her throne, cast her half closed eyes on the young Stark girl. “I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn that I read the last King in the North was Tauron Stark. Who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon Targaryen. It is unfortunate that you’ve traveled all this way to break faith with House Targaryen. Even more, so that your own brother, the so called King in the North, couldn’t come himself, he had to send his own sister.”

“In that case, it is understandable that you would not be aware that the last King in the North was actually my brother, Robb Stark.” Sansa kept her voice leveled, and with each word, she made her way closer to the Dragon Queen. As soon she had begun to move Daenerys’s guards had instantly reached for their weapons. Brienne, Arya, and Davos on the other hand that remained still, just like Sansa had instructed them to. “And I believe that it was your own father who broke faith with House Stark when he burned my grandfather and uncle alive.” By now she was at the foot of the steps.

Daenerys was actually taken aback by the girl’s brashness, but to her credit, she was able to recover quickly. “My father. . . was an evil man. I wouldn’t deny that, and I ask forgiveness for the crimes he committed against your family. I am not my father, our two-”

“And neither are we our ancestors. We are not beholden to their vows.” Sansa suppressed a smirk as the queen’s mask fell, frustration was now clearly displayed on her pretty face.

“So. Why. Are. You. Here.”

_This is almost too easy. Reading her is almost effortless. Dragons and Dothraki and Unsullied, all willing to die for her. . . I never had any of those things, and I never needed them. Her armies could annihilate us. Against her Robb and Jon would lose over and over again. But I am not my brothers. I do not fight with swords and spears. I do not lead armies. No, words and information are my weapons. This is my battlefield. This is how I wage war._

“If not renew your family’s vows to mine. Why would your own brother send you all the way here, to plea for a quick death on his behalf?”

“I am here to plea for your aid, and to offer ours.”

The young queen let out a laugh that echoed through the throne room. Tyrion looked at Sansa like she had gone mad.

“The world has changed. There has been a shift in reality. That which shouldn’t be is. You of all people should know that. Ancient horrors have awakened. They are coming for us all, and if we don’t stand together we will die. It may sound like the ramblings of a madwoman, but they exist. I can prove it. By brother Brann can show you.”

The queen raised and eyebrow, having recovered some of her composure, and leaned forward. “Even if what you say is true, why would I need your help. With my forces, I could take the North, and then face these horrors myself.”

“Because you can’t take the North.” Sansa began to ascend the steps of the throne. “Despite your obvious advantages, you haven’t taken King’s Landing yet. That tells me that you wish to avoid unnecessary casualties. To spare the innocents unfortunate enough to be have been born and raised there.”

Daenerys’ guards had drawn their weapons and were about to move in to stop the she-wolf when the queen single them to stop.

“But I wonder what you who you would consider as ‘innocent’.” With each following step taken Sansa raised her voice while making sure not to lose her composer. “The people of the North, yes the people not just the Lords, will never accept you as queen. We have all suffered too much at the hands of Southern Lords. You could put us all to death, replace us with your own allies, and you would find them all with their throats slit the next morning. Your ancestors learn that lesson from Dorne.”

Finally, she had reached the throne itself, and it was now the Northern Lady who was staring down on the queen. The guards began to feel unsure of what they should do looking for any indication of an assassination attempt. The queen herself was now visually stunned.

“The Free Folk, or Wildlings as you might know them, now live south of the Wall. We offered them refuge from the horrors beyond the Wall. They are called themselves the ‘Free Folk’ for a reason. They do not follow the same conventions of royalty that we do. For you to bring them into your fold would mean their subjugation.” Sansa leaned in and whispered in the queen’s ear, “In their eyes, you would be no different than the Masters of Essos.”

In that very moment, Varys burst into the throne room, obviously in a hurry. He was taken aback by the sight before him and almost skipped a step, but quickly regained his composure. He gave the queen look that meant he had news of urgent matters that required privacy.

Daenerys stood up from her throne to get some distance from the she-wolf. “You must forgive my manners. You must be tired from your journey. We’ll have baths drawn for you, and supper brought to your rooms.” She gave instructions to some of the Daharki to take them to the guest rooms.

As they were being led away, without looking back, Sansa played her last hand. “If it’s about that fleet you just lost I think we could be of help. I have some ideas we could go over with you and your advisers later. Maybe after supper? I am starving. Oh don’t look at me like that Lord Varys, my spies aren’t as competent as yours. But I guess it must be hard having a gap in your network after Cersei's Hand turned so many of them.”

Davos tried and failed to suppress a smirk. Arya, on the other hand, made sure everyone could see her smirk.

“Oh,” this time Sansa did turn around, “and just so we are cleared your _Grace_ , it was I that insisted in coming in place of my brother. He really is overprotective sometimes. He means well, but he needs to learn not to underestimate me. Not that he is the only one that is.”


	2. 1.5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short update. I wouldn't be able to put up the rest of the second chapter until maybe some time next week. But I really wanted to show you all this part.
> 
> PS- Thank you for all your comments, you make my day.

Yara was woken from her sleep by a loud thud. In The past several days she barely had enough time to rest. Euron took every opportunity to torture her personally, and when he didn't he put on display on the deck of his flagship as an ornament and to remain his men of what happened to those who crossed him. When he got bored of it he would chain her to a support beam in the cargo hold.

Expecting to be led away to be tortured or humiliated again the fallen Lady of the Iron Island reached for the shiv she had made from a broken wooden spoon she snatched while no one was paying attention to her. Normally only one man was sent to fetch her. If she was quick she could shove the shive through his vocal pipe, preventing him from screaming, while he unlocked the chains tying her to the support beam.

Hearing the soldier fidget with the lock Yara held on tight to the shiv. _He is either nervous and in a hurry or drunk. This might be my best chance. I can take his sword, sneak my way to Euron and make him my hosta-._

"You wouldn't be fast enough, not for me anyway, so put that thing away before you hurt someone."

Yara was stunned. Standing on the threshold of the entrance to the cargo hold was not one of Euron's men, but instead, a young girl who could not be more twelve years old holding a large keyring.

"Wha-"

"I'll explain later. For now, we just need to get out of here." The young girl had made her to Yara and had begun to test every key against the lock. "The sleeping draught used only about an hour at most, no that will matter to the men on this ship anyway, but we really don't have time to waste. Uggh, only if I could find the- Oh! There we go. Now come on, we don't have much time."

Too dazed to do anything else Yara simply followed the girl out of the cargo hold. Once she reached the hallway the stench of oil and ale.

"By now the fire I started on the other ship should've gotten big enough to attract the attention of the fleet and away from us, but it's only a matter of time before they notice Euron isn't doing anything about it, and realize something is wrong. The window we have to slip away unnoticed is small, and I need your help carrying this one," the girl nodded towards an unconscious body at the foot of the stairs leading to deck. "He is much heavier than I expected."

"Euron? How did you-"

"I dropped him coming down the stairs by accident, but he didn't break his neck, so we should be fine." Before Yara could question her the girl threw a nearby lantern across the opposite side of the hallway. It broke upon impact and the flames spread almost instantly.

Having given up getting any answers out of the girl Yara decided to just follow her lead. But she never let go of her shiv.

* * *

The deck was littered with the unconscious bodies of Euron's men. Off to the distance, fire crackled as it consumed one Euron's ships. The rest of the fleet came alive with the sounds of warning horns and shouts of men. The two women dragged the unconscious body of Euron to one of the row boats and tied him up before lowering the boat to the water.

When they made it to the shore of Casterly Rock Yara noticed that the fire that had been started on Euron's flagship had already reached the deck. "Burning alive is a terrible fate, but gods do I wish those bastards were conscious for it."

"I don't blame you, normally I make sure my targets know who killed them, and why they are dying. But that's not a luxury we can afford right now."

"That's very twisted for a child. What are you, ten? Twelve?"

The girl's eyebrows narrowed, and she gave the Lady of the Iron Isles a bone chilling glare. "I'm seventeen."

Arya Stark was quite sensitive about her size.


End file.
